Making Out
by illrain666
Summary: A girl needs to practice. And someone to practice on.


(I couldn't help it. I saw "Sky High", and there was this guy there with the broodiness and the pyrokinesis and it was immediately fatal.

And Layla never really struck me as being all that innocent, the little tramp.)

Making Out

"Hi, Warren!" Layla set her meal tray down on his table and smiled at him very sweetly. His eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion. This never boded well. "Warren," she said tentatively, the sweet smile still in place, "we're friends, right?"

He knew he was treading on dangerous ground here. "Yeah," he responded after a brief hesitation.

"Would you do me a huge, _huge _favor?" She looked at him, eyes all wide and pleading.

He had to feel his way through this very carefully. "How huge?" he asked.

"The hugest!" she told him. "I will owe you forever for this!"

That wasn't reassuring. "Exactly what sort of favor are we talking about here?"

"Well -," she gulped, "it involves a certain degree of physical contact."

He frowned at her.

"I wanna practice making out!" she said in a rush, then visibly tensed herself for his reaction.

He just stared at her. "Huh?"

"Oh, come on!" she wheedled. "You're the only one who can help me with this! I can't ask Will because he's got a girlfriend, I doubt Ethan would stay solid enough to go through the whole thing, and Magenta would kill me if I even breathe so much as a suggestion of this to Zach!"

"And of course that makes me the logical choice?" His brain was having a hard time processing thoughts at the moment.

"The only choice! Please, Warren!"

"Why would you want to practice – _this_? Shouldn't you know it by now? You and Will went out for a year," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but we barely got past first base! Every time I tried to slip him some tongue, he got all weird and giggly!" she complained.

"Oh, God!" He was horrified. "Too much detail, hippie!" He couldn't believe she would tell him such a thing.

"Will and I never really got all that serious," she explained. "It was kinda hard for us to get past the fact that we've been best friends forever. I guess he respected me too much or something." She scowled.

"And you think that I don't respect you?" He felt himself firing up. Did she have such a low opinion of him?

"No!" she protested. "No! Listen, I'll tell you everything. You know Rex Midas, right?"

"That transferee from Europe?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Well, he asked me out. And, he's European. They're more – _advanced_. I don't want him to think I'm inexperienced."

"So you're doing all this to impress a guy?" He was flabbergasted. "What the hell is wrong with you, hippie?" He was disappointed in her.

"I'm being a girl! I know you're used to preachy Layla, but there _are_ times when my genetic heritage betrays me, especially if there's an incredibly hot boy involved!" She pouted. "Warren, help me!"

A supervillain had dosed the cafeteria food with a mind-altering substance. It was the only reason he could think of to explain why he suddenly felt weird when he saw those lips of hers do that pouting thing that always used to make Will crumble at her feet. He heard himself actually agreeing to her crazy little plan. They made arrangements to go to her house after school. Both of her parents were attending an environmental conference in Brazil, so she had the entire place to herself. As she led him upstairs to her room, he wondered if he had gone insane. What the hell was he doing going along with this?

Well, he _was_ a guy, after all. And, to be completely honest, Layla was hot. Strange, but hot. In fact, if Stronghold hadn't come to his senses after that homecoming, - hold up. What was he thinking? That was unexplored thought territory. Well, maybe not all that unexplored. But, he really couldn't help it where his mind went in his sleep, could he?

"So," she said, "how do you wanna do this? Should we lie on the bed?"

He suddenly had difficulty breathing. "Let's – sit down first." He took off his jacket and his gloves, then piled them neatly on a chair. They then sat on her bed facing each other. "Well," he cleared his throat, "I guess we should start. How exactly do you wanna start?"

"I'm thinking the basics first. You know, kissing," she told him.

He nodded. "Right then." He reached for her a bit awkwardly. He hesitated a second before claiming her mouth with his own.

They started kissing slowly, softly. Light kisses, tasting, exploring, learning the feel of each other's lips. Then he teased her mouth open with his tongue, he felt her sweet warmth, and he heard her sigh. The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back, she was all over him, and things were starting to get very intense for what was supposed to be a practice make out session.

He pushed her away gently.

"What?" She was startled. "Am I doing it wrong?"

"No," he shook his head. "You, uh, were rubbing."

"Rubbing?"

"Uhm, against me."

"Oh." Her eyes suddenly widened. _"Oh! _Sorry. Sorry! No more rubbing, I promise!"

She kissed him again, very enthusiastically he noticed. Oh, what the hell. With a low growl, he rolled on top of her. His mouth trailed kisses along her neck, and she moaned. He shifted his position so he could press more fully against her. She was the one who pushed away this time.

"Well!" she said brightly, scrambling off the bed and getting to her feet. "I think that's – I'm good with it! Thanks! You're a great friend! You really helped me with this!" She shoved his things at him and practically forced him out the door. "I'll see you at school!"

He noticed that she was gripping the doorknob so tightly that her knuckles were whiter than their usual pale color. "Okay. Yeah," he said.

"So, bye!" She waved him off almost desperately.

He decided to walk home. He lived way out on the other side of town, but he could use the fresh air and the exercise.

And a cold, _cold _shower.

The End


End file.
